The Metamorphic Truth
by frostedteardrops
Summary: Kill him.' Slowly, she raised her wand and pointed it directly at Ron's heart. Fear flickered in Ron's eyes, and something inside her clicked, and she felt her mind recede into clarity.
1. Chapter 1

**Note: **_Another new story; how exciting. What you recognize belongs to the formidable JK Rowling, what you don't is mine. Enjoy the story, and leave a review at the end--critiques and suggestions especially are loved. _

_ ---frostedteardrops_

* * *

Chaos. That was the only way to describe the dire scene unfolding precariously. Complete and utter chaos. Spells were being zinged around with abadon, bodies were falling left, right and center. The air reverberated with cries of anger, passion, greif, life, and death.

Hermione squinted through the carnage, trying to make sense of the senseless battle. She tried to find somebody she recognized--anybody from the Order. All around her Hogwards castle lay in near ruins. She could barely make out the turrets from her spot in this secluded clearing in the Forbidden Forest. Maybe they weren't even there anymore. Who would have thought the final battle would come to this? And yet... it made sense, in a way. It would have to end where it started. It was here, that Tom Marvolo Riddle had discovered his true self; it was here that he had become Voldemort, so it was here to it would have to end. Here, tonight, either Voldemort or Harry would face his demise. Needless to say, Hermione hoped that it would be Harry.

She groped through the darkness, the smoke thick in her throat. She had to find him--now. She caught a glance of bright orange hair in her peripheral vision and stumbled towards it. "Ron!" she hollered, and her mouth began to turn up into a smile as she saw him turn towards her.

Suddenly a presence appeared at her side, a dark, greasy presence. Hermione felt her throat constrict. "No," she whimpered. "Please."

The new arrival sneered at the two. "Do it, Hermione," she hissed. "Kill him."

"No, no, no, please," whispered Hermione pleadingly, her heart thumping in her chest painfully, aching for release.

"Kill him!" shrieked Bellatrix Lestrange forcefully. "What are you afraid of?" she taunted. "Don't make the Dark Lord regret his desicion when we win."

Hermione turned towards Bellatrix with her eyes brimming with hatred. "I can't do it," she whispered lightly.

Despite the savage cries erupting all around them, the trio seemed to be enveloped in an air-tight bubble, with time stopping around them. Despite the low volume at which Hermione had spoken, Bellatrix had heard. Roughly, she reached out a claw-like hand and grabbed Hermione's chin. "What did you say?" she hissed, as though daring Hermione to challenge her.

Hermione wrenched her chin out of her grasp defiantly. "I said no," she repeated, a little more firmly this time, although not entirely able to keep the quiver out of her voice.

Ron looked from Hermione to Bellatrix and back again confusedly. "Hermione?" he asked, a little doubtfully. "You--this--what's going--what are you--"

Positively fuming now, Bellatrix shouted angrily, "You can't refuse me, Mudblood! Kill him now!" She pointed her wand threateningly at Hermione. In a soft poisonous tone, she muttered, "You can do this of your own free will, Mudblood, or we can do this the hard way."

Her eyes brimming with tears, Hermione shook her head. "No."

Ron stepped forward his wand raised, but was stupefied before he could cast a spell.

"I've set up your target perfectly now, Hermione. Just think of this as your initiation," she smiled ruthlessly. Finally losing her temper, she cried, "Imperio!"

Hermione felt her mind go thankfully blank. "Kill him," a tempting voice whispered commandingly in her head. She no longer felt greif about all those who had perished so far in the Final Battle. She no longer had to think about right or wrong. "Kill him." Slowly, she raised her wand and pointed it directly at Ron's heart. Fear flickered in Ron's eyes, and something inside her clicked, and she felt her mind recede into clarity.

"Yes...now," clucked Bellatrix encouragingly.

"Avada--" Suddenly, with a flick of her wrist, she turned her wand at Bellatrix. "Kevada!"

Bellatrix barely had time to react before her crumpled form sank lifelessly to the ground.

Hermione barely had time to register the relieved expression on Ron's face between she herself was hit in the back by a stray spell. Gratefully, she slipped away into darkness.

* * *

Hermione Granger woke up with a start, shivering in cold sweat. Welcome to her life.


	2. Chapter 2

Hermione Granger woke up with a start, shivering in cold sweat. Welcome to her life. Groaning, she lifted her head a few inches off her wet pillow and turned to look at her alarm clock, all the while avoiding looking into her bedside mirror.. Ten after nine. She sighed, sinking back into the pillows. It had been nearly a year, and yet, the dreams still continued to plague her, as vividly as ever, sometimes obscure details derailing her--obscure details that were best forgotten. Not that it was possible, and not that she hadn't tried.

The seconds hand of the alarm clock ticked insistantly, urging her to get up. Finally, when the bothersome noise was too much to bear, Hermione reluctantly swung her legs over the side of her four-poster bed and headed into the wash room.

She propped herself up with her hands on the ridge of the ceramic sink, cold sinking through her palms despite the warm June weather. Slowly, she raised her head to look at her reflection in the mirror. Her bloodshot eyes were burning from the glaring brightness of the washroom--her bedroom curtains were now routinely closed most of the time. Bags hung underneath her eyes, visual reminders of recent sleepless nights. She turned away from her reflection, the mere image too difficult to look at. Her frizzy hair was stringy and damp from sweat.

Disgusted, Hermione shuffled back into her bedroom. This was no way to live. A tapping noise drew her to the window, and she opened in, letting in a small burrowing owl.

"Hi, Zaphoo," she said without much ethusiasm. "Did you catch any rodents?" Hardly anyone from her old life sent her mail anymore--not that they even knew where she was. Afterall, America was quite a ways away from London.

Zaphoo hooted, and Hermione finally noticed the letter tied to his leg. Her mouth dropped in surprise, as she untied the rolled up piece of weathered looking parchment. She unrolled it, and sank down onto her bed to read it.

_Hermione,_

_I hope you're okay all by yourself. It's been nearly a year; don't you think that's long enough? Don't you think that it's time to come home? You can't keep hiding forever, avoiding living. Scarhead and Weasel (kidding) are getting rather annoying wondering where you've gotten to, and why you won't keep in touch. They miss you, Hermione, and so do I. Remember, life goes on. Keep on living._

_Love, Draco._

Hermione sniffed, angry at herself for her patheticness, yet still unwilling to completely give up moping. The world was a scary place, and she just wasn't quite sure that she was really ready to rejoin it yet. And yet... this one short note from Draco and sparked a change in her.

How did he even know where to find her anyway, Hermione wondered breifly, then decided that it didn't matter. She hadn't seen him in nearly a year, and despite her reluctance to admit it, she did miss him.

But... so many deaths... and to think that she had a played a part... after what she'd done in the war...

Slowly, Hermione lifted her head, and found herself looking at her reflection in the dresser mirror. A single tear slid smoothly down her cheek. Suddenly, the look in her eye changed, and was once again filled with determination and purpose. She choked out a mirthless laugh--even after so long, even a few words from him were enough; enough to have a shattering impact on her life. She strode over to the window and tore the curtains open, letting the sunlight spill in. Today was a new day. Draco was right; Life does go on.

There were just a few things that she need to do, though, before she could completely move on. She needed to stop hiding, and confront her memories.


End file.
